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The journey from poverty to prosperity is both an individual and collective one, the opportunities and challenges often determined by the circumstances of our immediate surroundings, our place of birth, gender, economic status, family patterns etc

Politics, both locally and globally affect the lives of each and every individual on earth and unfortunately millions of people are living with subjugation and poverty as a direct result of the politics of a minority with a vested, greed oriented interest in land and social order.

One of the most powerful pieces of writing that I have ever read on the controversial subject of poverty in aid-reliant countries is by Lynne Twist in her book The Soul of Money

Lynne is the former director of the The World Hunger Project and was involved in facilitating creative, new responses to poverty Bangladesh at a time when it was often referred to as the world’s ” begging bowl” for aid and relief.

The following story is about the changes and transformation that can happen when people are shown how to Dream and create a new vision together.

It is a powerful reminder that poverty is a human-made state generated by minds often dominated by greed and thus can be eradicated by activating the power and capacities of the mind and vision and capacity to create that resides in each and every one of us, regardless of whether we are living in poverty or fortunate to be living a comfortable life, the formula for creating change is in each and every one of us.

I found an the excerpt of the Hunger Project story that I was looking for in the on line edition of Ode magazine:

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“Decades of development work has made Bangladesh the world’s begging bowl; a land of desperation and dependence with no future. But even in the face of such misery one person can make a difference; without help from the outside.

A new dream and a new vision are bringing new life to the North of Bangladesh.

Bangladesh is an Asian country of more than 130 million people on a landmass the size of Iowa. It once was a land abundant with tropical rain forests, a diversity of plants and animal species, and a bounty of natural resources. In the 1900s the land was denuded of its forests by foreign interest that came and went, and the land was ravaged by war and the results of poor land tenure polices. Absent the trees and vegetation that once had thrived, seasonal floods took an even greater toll on the land and the people.
Listed by the United Nations as the second poorest country in the world in the late 1970s, Bangladesh became the recipient of another kind of flood, a flood of aid, and within a short time had become almost completely dependent on aid from outside sources. Bangladesh began to have a global reputation as needy and helpless, a giant begging bowl of a nation, and within Bangladesh itself, the people came to see themselves that way, too. Bangladeshis had become convinced they were a hopeless, helpless people dependent on others for even minimal survival.

In what had become a common cycle of disintegration of villages and communities, the people in villages near the district of Sylhet were giving up, making plans to leave the region and look for subsistence work elsewhere, or send the men off to larger towns an cities to find work and send money home to support their indigent families.
Sylhet is in the northern hill region of Bangladesh, just high enough to escape the floods that submerge the surrounding lowlands periodically each year. The dry hills had surrendered long ago to an invasive jungle of prickly scrubby brush, a plant whose only fruit is poison berries. The plants all tangled together look like a massive briar patch-inaccessible, dangerous, and thick. An overgrown area had been deemed government land and was off-limits for development by local farmers. But the scrubby, poisonous plant that grew there kept spreading and invading the small plots of land that the villagers would farm, taking over the crops and poisoning the land.
For generations the villagers had scraped a meagre existence from the small plots of land the government had given them, but even that was becoming an impossible task. Young people had turned to begging on the roads and stealing. Crime was at an all-time high. So it came to be that the villagers had given up on their difficult, unproductive land and were ready tot take drastic action. Many were prepared to abandon the village and move their families elsewhere, or abandon hope for an intact family, and instead send the men elsewhere to find jobs.
The conversation among villagers was urgent and pragmatic. Where could they move or send the men that would allow them to grow enough or earn enough to provide for their families? There was also talk of asking for US financial aid to enable them to buy food and other goods without work at all.
They had given up.
They were tired and they were resigned.
They felt the answer must be somewhere else and with someone else.
They felt they just couldn’t make it on their own.

About this time, we launched The Hunger Project in Bangladesh. There were plenty of independent relief agencies in Bangladesh already doing heroic and inspiring work, but what seemed to be making sustainable improvements were the initiatives that came from the Bangladeshis themselves.
The now-famous Grameen Bank, created by Dr. Muhammed Yunus, is a micro-credit program providing small-business loans to hardworking, cash-poor women, and BRAC, a village development initiative created by Bangladeshi leader Faisal Abed, had created significant success where outsiders unfamiliar with the people had failed.
These successes and experiences in other regions had affirmed our conviction that the Bangladeshi people were the key to their own development and that outside aid was systematically and psychologically turning them into beggars instead of the authors of their own future.
As the first step in the process of forging an effective partnership, together we looked deeply into the Bangladeshi culture, their attitudes and beliefs about themselves, their resignation and hopelessness.It became clear that after so long subsisting on aid, the people had lost touch with any sense of their own competence or any vision of their country as capable of success.
In our meetings together, the Bangladeshi leaders determined that the thing that was missing, which, if provided, would enable these people to become self-reliant and self-sufficient, was a vision of their own strengths and capabilities.

The Hunger Project committed, as a partner, to develop a program designed to enable the Bangladeshis to reconnect with a vision for themselves and their country, with an awareness of their available assets, and strategies to put their ideas into action. Out of that commitment and partnership came the Vision, Commitment and Action Workshop.
It called upon participants to engage in a series of group-discussion and visualisation exercises enabling them to imagine and envision a self-reliant, self-sufficient Bangladesh: the healthy, thriving Bangladesh they had fought for years ago in their struggle for independence.

In Bangladesh, because there are so many people, when you call any kind of a meeting, hundreds, even a thousand people can show up. People often gather in the village parks and squares. In Dhaka, the capital, there is a public park that holds easily a thousand people or more, and that is where we launched some of the early Vision, Commitment and Action Workshops. We publicised the meeting, and at the appointed time the park was packed with people. If you can picture it, this is no beautiful pastoral retreat, but a park with barely a blade of grass, packed with hundreds of these small, brown, beautiful people seated on the ground very close together, lots of babies and small children, people of all ages sitting attentively, tentatively, listening for whatever we could offer them that might be helpful.

The program opened with music, a few introductions and inspired words by community leaders, and some initial interactive exercises to bring the crowd’s energy and focus to the task at hand. Then we began the program, asking everybody to close their eyes and envision what a self-reliant, self-sufficient Bangladesh would look like:
What would it look like if Bangladesh were a country that was exporting its finest-quality goods?
What would it be like if Bangladesh were known for its art and music and poetry?
What if Bangladesh were a contributing member of the global community, instead of the big recipient, the big begging bowl receiving aid? What it would be like if Bangladeshi leadership, including Bangladeshi women, Bangladeshi men, and Bangladeshi young people, were a contribution to society?
What would that look like?

At first, people sat there very still, eyes closed, expressionless, shoulder to shoulder in the park.
A hush settled over the crowd, and the sea of faces remained still, eyes closed, in thought.
After a few minutes I noticed tears streaming down one man’s face and then another and another. People were still sitting with their eyes closed, but they were silently weeping. And then it was not just three or four, or ten or twenty faces with tears streaming down. In this crowd of more than a thousand, it was hundreds of weeping faces.

It was as if they had never in their lifetime even thought they could be self-reliant or self-sufficient or an contributing nation, that they had never imagined they could be a nation that made a difference for other nations, that they could be a nation that stood out, that had qualities that people admired, a unique role to play in the world community. It was a brave new thought.

When we completed this visioning meditation, and people shared with one another the visions they had seen for their village, their family, their school, their home, their business, their children, and their grandchildren, the vision became rich and real, palpable and exhilarating. A new future was born.
In the next section of the workshop the participants were invited to commit to their vision. They were asked not merely to envision, but to commit to being the people who would make that vision real. You could see them drop their anxiety and fear, letting go of their sense of lack and inadequacy, and step up to their own creation and commit to it. In that exercise you could see peoples posture and countenance change. People seemed to visibly strengthen. Their sense of resolve and determination was contagious, and the impossible seemed possible.
They finally broke into small groups to collaborate and design the actions they would take to fulfil their commitment to make their vision real. The actions were practical, local, doable, but in alignment with their new commitments and in service of their vision. People seemed to re-see themselves, their family, their village, and their country as able, resourceful, and potent -self-reliant and self-sufficient.

Soon these workshops were being repeated in gatherings all over, some in cities, others in villages, some just within families, and every Sunday for thousands in the square at Dhaka.
Now it happened that on a trip to Dhaka, one of the leaders of a village in Sylhet attended a Vision, Commitment and Action Workshop nearly by mistake. His name was Zilu. He was visiting his cousin in the city, and this cousin invited him to come along to the park to see what this workshop was all about. Zilu didn’t want to go. He wanted to talk to his cousin about moving his family from Sylhet in with his cousin, to share their home, so the family could leave their desolate village, hoping that Zilu could get work in the city and give them a chance for a new life. His cousin prevailed, however, and they attended the workshop together.

Zilu was completely captivated by the workshop experience, and his awakening to his own commitment to his village and the surrounding community. He stayed in Dhaka another three days and participated in a training to be a workshop leader himself. He then took the training and the vision back to Sylhet.
Back home, he called his six closest male friends together and delivered the workshop to them. With a shared vision now and unlimited commitment to develop the human and natural resources of their own region, the seven men came up with an idea and created an plan for a new agribusiness venture designed to bring the whole region out of poverty into self-reliance an ultimately into prosperity. They called it the Chowtee Project: A Bold Step for Self-Reliance.

I arrived in Sylhet just four months later, in April of 1994, with 17 travellers who were major donors to The Hunger Project. Zilu had invited us there to show us the progress he and his friends had made in the area to thank us for the contribution we were making to his country and his people.
He and his friends, whom we came to call the Magnificent Seven, told us the story of their region’s transformation and showed us the results. Zilu shared how he had returned from the workshop at Dhaka that December day inspired to look with new eyes at the resources he and his people had before them, and determined to develop a vision, a commitment and a plan of action. Once his six friends joined him in this commitment, their next step was to look at the resources they already had but had previously overlooked.
There, at the edge of town, was the fallow, hardscrabble government land covered with poison berry brambles.
The seven men met with government officials and got permission to clear seventeen acres of the tangled vegetation that had taken over their land. Then they went to the community for the money needed to buy equipment and supplies.
People drew from their meagre savings to support the initiative, and the men were able to collect the needed thousands of taka – then about US$750. Finally, they delivered their own version of the Vision, Commitment and Action Workshop to 600 people in the village of 18,000. Those 600 people got to work, building a road along the edge of the land and starting the clearing effort.

Impressed with their vision, clarity, and commitment, the government gave them a hundred acres more to develop. They trained the young people who had turned to begging and crime to cultivate and farm instead. They trained destitute women, many of them widows, to farm. In clearing the land, they were surprised to discover a previously unknown lake and small stream abundant with fish. The entire area was now under cultivation, providing food, fish, training, and employment for hundreds of people. All 18,000 people in the immediate area had benefited from this activity, and an area that had been wracked with poverty was now becoming self-sufficient and beginning to flourish. The crime rate had dropped by an astounding 70%.

We walked the fields with Zilu and the rest of the Magnificient Seven, and visited the fisheries and the training fields. We were overwhelmed by the people’s vitality, joy, and success.
I realised as I walked with them that they had accomplished this feat with almost no help from the outside. They had had what they needed all along-the land, the water, the intelligence, the muscle, and the capacity to put it all together-but had lost touch with those resources and capabilities in the climate of ‘Third World’ aid and the hopelessness and presumed incompetence that had come with it. Once they were inspired to see themselves differently, to see themselves as strong, creative, and capable, their commitment knew no limits. Success was inevitable.

Looking at the fields, once impenetrable jungle and brush, I thought about our own lives, and that which covers over the soil of our dreams, that which temporarily blocks our inner vision or capacity to see. In their world, it was the jungle and the confusing message of aid telling them that they were incomplete and needy and not able to make it on their own. They had bought into that, and as long as they did, they couldn’t see the resources in front of them. Once they had focused their attention on their own unlimited inner resources, the outer resources materialised, suddenly accessible. They could begin to see that what they needed had been there all along.

I never forgot the Magnificent Seven. When you are crushed by the victim mentality, as they were, your ability to dream and envision is crushed, too. It goes dead. When I find myself groping for what’s beyond my grasp, I hear their words in my head and know that if I can re-look from the inside out and access and appreciate what’s already there, what’s already available, then its power, utility, and grace will grow and prosper in the nourishment of my attention.

I try not to make appointments for Mondays as that is the day I have allocated as my time to spend the day in my studio and catch up on correspondence, workshop planning and, my favourite….to watch the Oprah show.

Over Christmas I was given the Oprah Winfrey Anniversary Collection- Highlights of 20 years of her shows.
It was a bit like spending time in a three day Angel-intensive workshop!…the editors chose well and the commentary by Oprah with personal insights and why-things-were-done-this way and thier impact on her development was very enlightening.

Service, contribution, making a difference, breaking patterns, creating new ones, laughter, vision, magic..these are some of the giftings in the gift of the Collection.

For ten years I was able to use video-recordings of the Oprah show in the groups I ran for homeless mothers with children .
I have seen first hand the power of her personal vision to bring about change and a new vision to the lives of young Women who have forgotten the magic after leading lives of trauma and dispossession.

And of course Oprah has a strong team to carry the vision with her…she is certainly not where she is because she got there on her own…
T.E.A.M.

T~ogether
E~veryone
A~ctivates
M~iracles ………..Mirrorcles!

Todays Oprah show was about the power of Forgiveness…. a gay man who was beaten by a white supremicist 20 years ago ends up working at the Museum of tolerance and finds himself side by side with his attacker, who has undergone a transformation of beliefs……he not only forgave his attacker and the exceptionally brutal beating…but they have become friends…
Here is their myspace site:End Hate Now.

There was also a Jewish woman who lost her whole family in the concentration camps. She meets with the daughter of the man who enslaved her and killed all of her family and takes a journey back to the camp where it happened…reminding everyone that we have choices and we can choose to forgive….

I don’t get to go to workshops very often and my “Wise Older Woman” Molly passed on 7 years ago, therefore much of my work is self generated without the benefit of a like-minded creative team…..

So Mondays-with-Oprah are the equivalent to an afternoon in Soul School…..

This is a small and very heartfelt photographic tribute to a man who I have come to love and admire greatly over the last few years.

Moogey works tirlessly for justice, cultural renewal and healing here in South Australia. He is a member of the global archaelogical society and responsible for returning the remains of the Ancestors whose graves were robbed and bones shipped to museums across the globe….

His traditional land, like all Aboriginal Land in Australia , was invaded and stolen during settlement and for many years the Ngarrindjeri people have been dispossessed of the Land which was in their custodianship for thousands of years.

With his Talkinjeri dance group Moogey and his family perform many of the ceremonies and cultural events around the state and overseas.

These photos, taken over the last few days, depict the scope and range of Moogeys calling.

The first photo was taken on the Coorong…Moogey’s ancestoral land.
We filmed there this week as part of the oral history recording of Ngarrindjeri culture…

Moogey is demonstrating how this grass-spear is used for antiseptic healing:

This is the bush that, when dried, is used in the smoking cermonies:

Video and audio recording with an Archaelogist who was able to share his research based knowledge of Ngarrindjeri culture with Moogey and in doing so, triggered some of the forgotten memories he had of hunting and fishing along the Coorong as a small child…

Today members of the first Nations gathered to on the steps of parliament house to commiserate the absence of Aboriginal representation in South Australian parliament.
A letter is to be presented to parliament and prior to handing over of the letter, Moogey performed the smoking ceremony:

Community worker, Elder, cultural consultant, performer, ambassador, healer and talking circle-facilitator….Moogey is all of these things… He is also a Husband, Father and Family Man ….and Grandfather to his gorgeous little “Mimini”….

I LOVE Einstein…I love that he was left handed, had a deeply Spiritual insight, a wild head of electrical current hair, that he was a profound Thinker AND had a great sense of humour and humanity.

A Piscean, he truly was a big Fish in the Ocean of life…

I came across this clip on the net where Einstein is about to read something but there is too much noise going on, so someone (off camera) calls for “Quiet” and there was something about the moment that made Einstein chuckle before launching into his reading.
It is a brief chuckle but the light and delight sparkles in his eyes…Magic!

It’s just delightful to see this captured moment in a day of the life of this great explorer of the Mind.

Jean Houston is one of the highly skilled Elders of the human capacities training movement.
Author of over 20 books, student of Margaret Mead, friend of Joseph Campbell and former trainer of Hillary Clinton, Jeans Mystery School and Social Artistry intensives are a powerful, high energy experience of art, creativity, Mind capacities development, dance, quantum physics, song and Energy empowerment….

In this video Jean discusses her work and her views on importance and significance of the times we are living in…

For not only am I a Magical Child in Exile but I have also become that groan-up…and I am telling my three young children to stop, stop, stop! Thus, creating more Magical Children in Exile.

I remember first coming to PI and learning LoA and The Secret. It was like a true awakening. These were things I knew as a child but had forgotten. I vividly remember knowing and believing these principles….and dancing…..and laughing….and crying….and dreaming….and believing.

Who am I to take that from my children? I hear myself tell my 3 yo to stop crying and grow up! I don’t know if I can undo the damage I’ve probably already done….but from this day forward I will feed the Magic in my Magical Children.

Thank you again.
Christina

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As the Mother of 3 children you are already a “Wonder Woman” Christina… and I am thrilled for you that you will now be making sure to place the “Wonder” back into your Wonder Woman life…

You are this weeks recipient of my “Warrior Woman Award”…

We make Her in my Art of Change workshops as a way of empowering the reclaimed Creativity of the original Self…and finding our wings to fly back to who we always were…… Magic!!

…

….and two more from my Wonder~Woman~Warrior~Woman~Mum who is a Mother of three like you are… 3 who were able to hold onto much of the Magic thanks to her love of art, words and imagination….

When I was a young girl, Rodney Kemp, my grade 6 and 7 Teacher saw something in me that I did not see in myself until many years later.
He brought creativity, lateral thinking, fun and play to his class room and was very attuned to the role of playing games and exercising as a vehicle for learning and group bonding.

During my teen years amidst the distrubance of going to 3 different high schools, another Teacher, a beautiful, larger than life African man, Vernon Hoffman shook his big jowls at me and said:

“You have a gift and you must use that Gift.”

Vernon died in his 40’s of heart failure. He had enormous reservoirs of passion and emotion pulsing through his body….
His heart felt interpretation of the world impacted the hearts and minds of all who encountered him on their path.

Another of my Teachers is very much alive and continues to inspire passion, insight, wisdom and possibility to thousands….
Her name is Dr Jean Houston……. Jean Houstons Web site
Attending Jean’s Mystery School- The Mystery of Time, The Mystery of Magic and The Mystery of Creation in 2001 changed my life in magical ways that are still unfolding today.

Thankyou Jean…and thankyou for creating the space and place where I met my beloved partner Sal….I have always thought I got the “Mystery School Door Prize” with the added bonus of meeting my partner in a place of Possibility and Passion.

I highly recommend attending her Mystery School and Social Artistry events.
Jean’s training includes developing internal, ‘Energy upgrades’ that enable us to create over-riding currents to bring about change thereby putting the Magical “action” to the attraction and her Mystery School intensives are truly a one of a kind event….

You can watch Jeans videos and hear her audio presentations on her web site…”The Alchemy of Creativity” is a fantastic discussion on the pod cast section.

This leads to my Teacher Molly…

Molly was 95 when she passed on. She did not write any books or run any seminars.
Few people would know her name and even fewer were blessed to undergo her training. Molly was very olde school Spiritualist. A clairvoyant and healer who had an extraordinarily simple outlook on life.
Love
Laughter
Service
Healing
Vegetarian Food
Singing

Molly never drove a car, did not own a television, she washed her clothes by hand and was a vegetarian from when she was a little girl.
Simplicity personified how Molly lived her life.

I met Molly when she was in early 80’s…her white hair was like Einsteins, wild and crackling with the electricity of a vibrant, active Mind.

..A friend told me about ‘this amazing woman who runs a development circle’ so I went along with her and the moment Molly opened her arms in her welcoming embrace it was as if two wires connected and the connection was finally made between who I had been and who I was to Become.

Molly had a hug like a vice grip…I know how my cat Yami feels sometimes when I hug him too tight it almost makes his purr-pop….
For a tiny woman Molly had the hug of a thousand warrior Angels and the currents she emitted created a bridge between the world of the seen and the unseen…a bridge that I saw many Souls stroll across over the years that she was my Teacher.

It was during a Healing Circle one day….where we sat in a circle with the healers channelling therestorative energies to people on the stools before them….that I looked up and found Molly transifxing her gaze on me…staring me straight in the eye.
I was still new to the circle and did not consider myself at all to be in the position to offer healing Energy to others.
As Molly stared at me I could feel my hands beginning to tingle and a warmth fill my fingertips like I had not expereinced before.
Molly gave a small smile and with a brief nod of her head, she directed me to the centre of the circle towards a woman awaiting healing.

I placed my hands on the womans shoulder, feeling Mollys gaze transfixed behind me and at the point of connection felt that same circuit of energy connect with the woman before me.

Molly taught me that Love and sincere Intent really is the power that heals and whether it is Reiki or massage or contact healing or any of the other hundreds of ‘versions’…it is always LOVE that creates the circuit that connects and heals.

There were many special moments with Molly that impacted my life.
When I was still a young youth worker I was employed to provide the personal development training for a group of long=term unemployed young people, under 25, 5 Aboriginal- 5 non Aboriginal, 5 male , 5 female…who were a part of a dynamic employment initiative to build a mud brick house in six months.

I had never been on a building site before, the only one of us who had was Padraic the loveable Irish builder…but over a wet winter and in spite of only one of us really knowing anything about building houses ….we got that mud-brick house built and it is still standing today….17 years later, now owned by one of the participants who built it.

I sought counsel with Molly before the project began, sharing with her my concern that I might not be up to the job…what if…blah blah…and Molly heard me out as she always did and then said quietly;

“Running Wind will work with you on this project dear. If you find things get too much or you need an extra hand, call on Running Wind and he will help you out”.

Over those six months amongst dealing with pot-smoking participants who were banned from climbing ladders, mud bricks that accidentally became mud-pies and not knowing a thing about brick laying or ‘damp courses’ when asked by the participants for a hand…I called on Running Wind often.
Every time, without fail, as soon as the call silently went out, I would feel a shift in the breeze and the presence of this great Spirit who Molly had requested assistance from on my behalf.

One unruly day when we needed to pour concrete that was quickly setting in the unexpected sunshine, surrounded by teenage brick layers who were more interested in flirting and playing from behind their dark sunglases …I called Running Wind for help and it was a sudden gale force gust of wind that swept across the site that got the attention of the group and re-focused them on the task at hand as sheets of plastic and empty cement bags began to rise and fall over the site….Running wind exhaled with gusto!

Two of those Mud-brick house making teenagers are now women in their 30’s who are in positions of influence and leadership within their Communities and I know for certain that Running Winds and Molly’s influence over that project is a large part of how they have arrived at where they are today….

In September 2000 I sat with Molly in the nursing during her final days of her transition, four months before her 95th Birthday.

Molly was born on January 26th 1905 – Australia day -and for many years she lead the Australia Day march from the comfort of the lead car….waving her flag like the Queen and allowing herself just one day of the year to be recognised and applauded….by the end of the long march flag waving had slowed down and her hand would be aching from the special wave she gave to each and every person who called out her name….

The Staff in the nursing home, the good hearted over worked Nurse~Angels had no idea who Molly was or that she carried the stories of the origins of the Spritualist Church here in Adelaide, that she was a herbalist and healer, a psychic and medium who lived between two worlds in th eplace where those worlds meet… or that she took her instruction from the Miracle making formulas and Teachings of the Master Jesus.

The Nurses simply knew Molly as the very sweet, pure-white haired old lady, never any trouble, who always said “Bless you Dear” and “Thankyou Darling”…

In spite of hospital rules and regulations, they were very tolerant when I insisted on squashing myself into the bed next to the deep-sleeping Molly to read to her as she lay in the pre-transition state of unconsciousness and they were equally understanding when I filled the room to excess with Spring Jasmine because I did not want Molly to pass with the currents of the hospices cleaning chemicals and incontinence filling her senses.

Mollys story could not be told without mention that most of her family had long ago rejected Spiritualism and her communications between the worlds was considered not at all in alignment with their chosen religion…consequently, as their religion decreed, I was not able to honour her passing through her Mother Church.
I was very upset at the time, though understand things differently now…and the night after she passed Molly came to me in the in-between place and said “Love dear…that is all that matters. Forgiveness is Love. It is all okay dear”…

Molly continues to teach me…. the words that I write are her written legacy….the stories I have shared in my Womens group over the years are often her stories and the Love that she gave me, the introduction to Running Wind and her legacy of creating powerful circuits of Healing are a blessing that go beyond words and into the realm of the Infinite.

This is my Teacher Molly…..Molly …born Katherine White 1905 -2000…our photo was taken on the last Australia Day parade we went to together….